Menopause as a Second Spring: Lessons from My Mum
- Roisin McGlynn
- Mar 18
- 5 min read
This is a photo of my Mum, taken in the early ‘00s somewhere in Washington D.C. in the spring. It’s one of my favorite images of her for so many reasons, but mostly because it contains an energetic truth of who my Mum always was, a truth that probably only became obvious to her (and to her family) in her midlife.
My Mum, named Bredeen, (Irish name for Brigid), was born in a 2-bedroom house in a very poor Ireland in the 1940s. Like most young Irish people in the 60s (and like many generations before her), she emigrated to London at the age of eighteen to find work. While there, she went to a Jimi Hendrix concert, went on a double date with her roommate, (Mum’s date was one of the Bee Gee brothers --still don’t know which one), and fell in love for the first time (not with aforementioned Bee Gee). Upon having her heart broken, she reluctantly left London but found a great job in her hometown where she met my Dad. She wasn't paying him much attention until he stood on her desk demanding she go out for lunch with him (hmmmm, so many questions here). She loved telling me that she was also making more money than him at the time.
My Mum went on to raise five daughters, mostly single-handedly. She emigrated with her family, once (from Ireland to Canada), and again (from Canda to the US), to support her husband’s ambitions and to give us a "good life", which in my Dad's terms meant "so far out of generational poverty that enough wasn't enough". While raising us, Mum put herself through college, securing undergraduate and graduate degrees in counselling psychology and beat her first bout of an aggressive form of breast cancer in her early 50s, until tragically she relapsed almost a decade later, passing away soon after her sixtieth birthday in 2007.
Beyond the frequent depths of the grief I feel for her absence, for her not knowing I got married and had two beautiful children of my own, nor being able to rely on her for parenting and relationship advice, I’ve spent my recent energy wondering and remembering how she got through menopause (not that your mother's menopause directly equates to your menopause experience).
Most likely it was medically induced with all the cancer treatments she had to endure. I do remember her talking to me all the time about the powers of Ginseng for memory and concentration (brain fog anyone?). One of my four sisters remembers frequently putting her head in the freezer to cool down during a hot flash.
My younger sisters who were still living at home then, during what would have been her perimenopause, had a completely different experience of our Mum. Whereas I remember her always being there after school, bringing us to swimming lessons, baking cakes, experimenting with recipes, hosting dinner parties for my Dad and his visiting American colleagues, my younger sisters had a Mum who didn’t have dinner ready most nights, who wasn’t home after school all the time, and who wasn’t paying attention to all the details like the hawk eyed Mum she was for me.
She was changing – but was it getting a second chance at life after her cancer diagnosis or was it her hormones marching up and down and out the door? It was probably a mix of both over the events of the years!
The subsequent truth serum infiltrating her thoughts, emotions and actions, were showing her a new way to live--fiercely and without remorse.
She decided to go to university, making her the very first female in her family to have ever have so. She didn’t have time for the bliss of domesticity and caretaking like she used to. She wasn’t interested in it anymore and she didn’t prioritize it. She was shedding layers and layers of obligations and notions of eternal maternal service to her family. I can totally relate Mum!!!
She emerged as a new person following her divorce to my Dad and I remember silently rejoicing inside as I watched her grow into the person she was meant to become, without a husband who expected it all from a traditional wife. She ended up receiving a marriage proposal shortly after her divorce.
When I asked her why she didn’t want to get married again, she sighed, rolled her eyes and said she couldn’t be bothered wondering how he liked his toast in the mornings. I remember laughing and laughing together at her reply but also at the truth of it.
Now single, and with two psychology degrees under her belt, she found rewarding employment supporting people in her community, whether as a guidance counselor at the local school, a workshop leader for breast cancer survivors, or private counselling for wives and families who lost their loved ones in the 9-11 attacks on the World Trade towers in 2001.
Why am I sharing all of this? Probably to help me make sense of my own experiences as a Mum, as a mother going through perimenopause with young kids, as a professional who has attempted to find work/life balance for the past twelve years and as a pre-menopausal person wondering what of my best years are ahead. I’m also trying to form a narrative for my Mum’s life that I obviously can’t discuss with her but doing so helps me find a narrative for my own midlife changes in aspirations, values and desires.
When my Mum turned sixty, my sisters and I threw her a huge surprise party attended by family and friends from Ireland, Canada and the US. I remember her illuminated smile, and how she danced with us that night. In her remarks to everyone, she shared how the Chinese see sixty as the age in which you get to start all over again. She was so content in her future.
I was happy to be reminded of her words during my yoga for menopause training where I learned that Traditional Chinese Medicine sees menopause as a “second spring”. That menopause is a time in a person’s life when they get to recoup the rewards of their life, through hard earned wisdom, and upward flowing energy from the ground to the heart. Blood is no longer being shed downwards and the Chi (life force) of blood moves up to the heart, expanding it, making it full. Likewise, menopause is not about shrinking. It’s about growing and becoming, experiencing a second spring.
Recently moving past a long-held fear of dying young from breast cancer as my Mum did (sadly 10 months after that birthday party), I find so much positive energy and hope in my Mum’s story. I see energy and hope in this portrait of her (and of me with my kids) under the cherry blossoms in our second springs, full of vigor and vitality. She is my guide for my own renewal and rebirth in midlife. Thanks Mum.
Who is your guide, your mentor or your menopausal archetype? Why? Have a think on it and let me know. I'd love to hear from you.
Sobbing!!!